


They'll Be Calling You a Radical

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College Student Stiles, M/M, Protester!Derek, The Hale Fire, Werewolf Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is just trying to save the wolves. Wolves are great, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	They'll Be Calling You a Radical

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [ this post](http://gryffindorkwinchester.tumblr.com/post/147982193484/sooo/). They were talking about protester!Derek trying to save the wolves, and my little biologist heart couldn’t resist, so I wrote a little something. I have no idea how local government works, so just pretend with me, please. While we’re at it, let’s also pretend wolves still live in northern California.

“Hey, son,” his dad says when he picks up. “I’m going to be home a little late, I’m still at the station right now.”

Stiles hesitates, gripping the door handle of the jeep. “Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s some protest going on in the town square, I’m about to head over,” his dad says.

“Cool,” Stiles says. “I’m already downtown, I’ll be there in a few.”

“That’s _not_ why I called you,” his dad says, exasperated. “And were you at that bakery again, Stiles? You said you weren’t—”

“Nope!” Stiles says quickly, guiltily wiping at his mouth. Thank god his dad can’t see him. “I’m just going to check it out, I’ll see you there,” he says, and hangs up before his dad can answer.

He’s not sure what he was expecting.

It’s not a huge crowd. There’s a group of people in the middle of the square, all listening interestedly to someone. Several are holding posters and signs, but Stiles can’t tell what they say. However, his interest is piqued.  

He sneaks around the back, where the crowd is thinnest. He can see the little card table then, covered in flyers and pamphlets and clipboards. There’s a guy standing in front of it, holding everyone’s attention. Stiles has just gotten to the back of the table when the guy turns, handing someone a flyer, and he catches a good glimpse.

_Damn_ , Stiles thinks. _Whatever this guy’s selling, I’m buying_.

“The wolves have no voice here,” the gorgeous guy is saying. “So we must speak for them, and we must protect them.”

And Stiles suddenly understands what all this is about. The city recently made plans to capture and relocate the local wolf pack, which has been showing up more and more often at the edges of the preserve, and even occasionally in town. This has made people understandably nervous, and obviously they want action taken.

He waits for a lull, and finally gets one when Hot Guy starts passing around a petition, urging everyone to sign.

“Hey, man,” he says, coming around the side of the table. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up, the Sheriff is going to be showing up here in a few minutes.”

“So?” the guy says, his eyebrows pulling down low as he frowns at Stiles. “I’m within my rights to be protesting here.”

“No, that’s not,” Stiles starts, taken aback. He lowers his voice. “No, I just meant that the Sheriff is pretty well respected, and if you have a good conversation with him about the wolves, here in front of everyone, it’ll probably convince a lot of people who are on the fence.”

The guy looks at him in surprise, then nods. “Thanks,” he says, and turns back, his eyes darting over the crowd.

Stiles can’t help smiling to himself a little. He moves back behind Hot Guy’s table again, and winks at his dad when he shows up.

Derek takes his advice, having a well-reasoned, encouraging talk with the Sheriff while everyone crowds around, listening. At least, Stiles assumes it’s going well. He keeps getting distracted by the way Hot Guy’s stubble perfectly enhances his cheekbones and his jawline.

And he has a really nice voice, Stiles thinks dreamily.

He hopes everyone else is more focused than he is.

His dad winds up his friendly chat with Hot Guy, shaking his hand before he goes. Stiles gives him a jaunty wave as he starts to leave, and his dad just rolls his eyes.

It’s getting late now, nearly dinner time, and a lot of people leave when the Sheriff does. Hot Guy turns around then, gives Stiles a small smile. “Thanks for your advice,” he says. “I think that went pretty well.”

“Hey, absolutely,” Stiles says. He thinks about what he wants to say next as Derek starts gathering up all the papers and materials on his table. “Actually,” he says thoughtfully. “I think I could help more. I know a lot of people in this town, I could probably get a lot of them interested. But I don’t really know all the facts about what’s going on,” he says.

Hot Guy looks up then, raises his eyebrows and waits.

“So, uh, maybe we could get together and talk about what you’re trying to do?” Stiles finishes awkwardly.

Hot Guy stares at him suspiciously, seeming to search Stiles’ face for sincerity. “Okay,” he says eventually. He reaches into one of the folders in the pile, pulls out a piece of paper. He flips it over and starts writing on the back. “Here’s my address and phone number. I’m usually free in the evenings,” he says, handing it to Stiles.

“Um, thanks,” Stiles says glancing down at it. The name at the top says _Derek Hale_. The address is only a few blocks away, and he’s surprised because he didn’t think Derek was a local. “I’ll call you,” he says, watching Derek scoop up an armful of flyers and walk away. “I’m Stiles, by the way!” he yells after him.

He expects the usual joke about his name, but Derek just gives a little wave and keeps walking.

 

*

 

Derek seems really surprised when Stiles actually asks questions about wolves, and doesn’t hit on him. Not that Stiles doesn’t _want to_ , but he’s also never passed up the opportunity to learn something new. He’s content to ask questions and listen to Derek talk about his cause.

“The main issue is that hunting in the preserve would have to be restricted,” Derek is saying. “Right now they’re allowing too many tags, and it’s depleted the prey for the wolves. That’s why they’re coming into town. They can’t find food anywhere else.”

“And of course they hunters don’t like hearing that,” Stiles says.

“No,” Derek says. “I’m sure they’d like to shoot the wolves, too. But if they considered it, they’d realize that reducing the amount of hunting would not only help the wolves, but would also strengthen the stock of the deer population.”

“How so?” Stiles asks, because the wolves will kill the deer, even if the hunters don’t.

“An important role of the predator is population control. They do this by killing the old, the weak, and those that don’t fit in. These are the deer that are slow, or small, or the wrong color. Hunters will also argue that they provide population control, but there’s an important difference.”

“What’s that?” Stiles asks, intrigued. Derek is clearly very passionate about this.

“Unlike the wolves, hunters pick the best deer. They go for those with the best antlers, the biggest stature, the ones in the prime of their life. Over time, this actually degrades the population, because the best genetic material doesn’t get passed on.” Derek shakes his head. “And then they have the gall to complain that the deer are getting dumber, and are turning up with smaller and smaller antlers.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Stiles says. “So the real issue is actually the hunting. Because if the wolves have prey, they won’t cause any trouble in town, and no one will have to worry about them.”

“Exactly,” Derek says, looking pleased.

 

*

 

Stiles learns a lot about Derek during their next few meetups.

He had once lived in Beacon Hills a long time ago, with his family. They had started protesting when the town made plans to sell more than half of the preserve to private companies, who wanted to build housing and shopping centers.

The Hales had been strong opponents of the bill, right up until someone had set their house on fire.

No one had been hurt, but the Hales had left Beacon Hills, moved up to Washington. After that very public incident had put them under scrutiny, the city had decided against the sale, and kept the preserve as it was.

Derek had only returned last month, when he heard about the plight of the wolves still living there. He was planning to stay, hoping to educate and promote conservationism.

“You see, predators are great indicators of the overall health of an ecosystem. If the predators are struggling, then so is everything beneath them in the food chain,” Derek says. “We know the oceans are in trouble, in part because of the reduction we’ve seen in the shark population. We figured out how toxic DDT was because we saw a rapid decline in the Bald Eagle population. Predators are incredibly important, they’re essentially our canary in a coal mine.”

“What about the wolves here?” Stiles asks.

“That’s the thing,” Derek says. “Up until recently, the wolf pack has actually been increasing in size, which was a good sign. But a number of factors, including drought, over hunting, and people putting out traps, has caused a drop in their numbers. It can recover, though, if proper measures are taken.”

Stiles nods, rapt, and Derek answers every question he can think of. Before he leaves that night, he asks if he can join Derek at the table and start helping out.

Derek gives him a little smile, says _of course_.

 

*

 

Stiles shows up after his morning class, eager and ready.

He’s already contacted a lot of people he knows, and Scott is the first to show up. He happily signs the petition, and then takes a stack of flyers with him back to the vet clinic, promising to hand out as many as he can.

Derek gives him amused looks as he continues to call friends and acquaintances alike, encouraging them to come down to the square and have their voices heard. He even gets ahold of coach Finstock, who looks wild as ever, but he still takes a folder full of pamphlets. Stiles hopes he can get the whole lacrosse team on board.

It’s that afternoon that he really gets to see Derek shine.

Derek talks to people all day, explains that the wolves are a gift, and that they should be valued by the townspeople, rather than feared. He talks about the beauty of the wolves, how great they are, and how saving them will also save the preserve and everything in it.

Stiles is entranced, listening to him.

Then a hunter shows up, full of self-righteous anger. It’s a sign, Stiles knows, that what they’re doing is actually getting mileage. Everyone around town must be talking about the wolves by now.

A crowd gathers as he starts to argue with Derek, insisting he has a right to hunt in those woods. When Derek informs him of other hunting grounds available, he blusters, then moves on. He brings up the safety of those living near the preserve, and the economic impact of reducing the number of tags on deer.

Derek is calm and controlled, intent. He has a counter-argument for every single thing the hunter says, delivering it all with smooth conviction.

Stiles is in awe.

Eventually the hunter degenerates into petty name-calling, and storms away.

Stiles grins big as people start clapping, and he watches several march right into city hall, determined looks on their faces. Derek turns to him, smiling brightly, and Stiles feels like he’s sharing a victory.

 

*

 

“So, what is it that made you so passionate about wolves?” Stiles asks on their forth meeting.

“You could say that I have a…personal connection with them,” Derek says, with the air of someone who has an inside joke.

“That’s not an answer,” Stiles says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, I’ve just always felt like wolves were a part of me,” Derek says, and he’s smirking now.

“Seriously?” Stiles huffs good-naturedly. He knows he’s being teased, but he doesn’t really mind.

“Do you really want to know?” Derek asks, his face suddenly serious.

“Um, yeah?” Stiles says, though he’s not as sure as he was a second ago.

“I could show you,” Derek says. “If you think you can handle it.”

There’s no better phrase than that to make Stiles act cocky, and he immediately straightens, leveling Derek with a sharp look. “I can handle it,” he says.

“Okay,” Derek says, and his smile is suddenly sharp with fangs, his eyes glowing gold as his face transforms.

Stiles just stares in shock, his whole body stiff with surprise. He does it long enough that Derek changes back, his face looking worried now.

“Stiles?” he says questioningly.

“That was awesome!” Stiles blurts, finally finding his voice.

Derek’s face is comically surprised. “You’re not scared of me?”

“No way,” Stiles says, full of wonderment. “Can you do it again? I have like a million questions,” he says excitedly, because now he knows a real, actual _werewolf_.

His day could not be better.

 

*

 

Now that he knows, he and Derek have so much more to talk about.

Derek tells him about the house they had in the preserve, and the close bond his family had with the wolves. He talks about growing up to the sounds of wolves howling, watching them work together, hunt together. How they would all run together at the full moons, how the kids and pups would play.

How the wolves always looked out for the Hales.

Many had been killed that night, trying to stop the arsonists. Many more had been hurt, trying to pull everyone out of the blaze. The wolves had saved his whole family.

Now Derek is back, trying to return the favor.

 

*

 

They get enough signatures on the petition two afternoons later. The city’s plans are halted in their tracks. The restriction on hunting, and the permanent protection of the pack will have to go to a vote, but for now, the wolves are _safe_.

Stiles grabs Derek’s shoulder, thrilled, and Derek turns to him, beaming. He pulls Stiles into a tight hug, presses a kiss to his cheek. Stiles startles a little, feels his whole body flush all over.

“Sorry,” Derek says embarrassedly, pulling away.

“No, I was—” Stiles tries, but he’s tongue-tied. He takes a deep, calming breath. “Do you want to celebrate over dinner?”

Derek leans in close, his eyes intent. “As a date?” he asks.

“Yes,” Stiles says, feeling a little breathless.

“Good,” Derek says, grinning. “Can I kiss you?”

Stiles intends to say something cool, like “Sure,” or “Of course,” or even “Hell yeah.” What comes out instead is just “ _Please_.”

He stops worrying about it, though, the moment Derek’s lips touch his. Derek kisses him sweetly, and pulls away with a smile.

Looks like it’s all going to work out in the end, Stiles thinks, and kisses Derek again.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr ](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
